As Time Goes By
by LadiSmilePretty
Summary: Months after Sam jumps into the pit, Dean and Jo try to rebuild their lives as civilians. Sequel to Abandon All Hope II: When Sam died Dean wanted to retire and no amount of debate would change that, but by that point Jo would have followed him anywhere. And she did, to the small town of Brandon, South Dakota.
1. If It Hadn't Been For Love

_Never woulda seen the trouble that I'm in_

_If it hadn't been for love_

_Woulda been gone like a wayward wind_

_If it hadn't been for love_

The window panes banged together as the mid-morning breeze pushed through the open window. The drapes flapped freely, and Jo hated them. She was jealous of their free will, it seemed criminal that they were to be so blissful in such a dreary place. She wanted to rip them from the rod that held them to the wall and burn them. But she didn't. She couldn't. Instead she stretched her limbs as far as they would go on her small frame. She frowned when she found the space next to her empty. Untangling herself from the plain white sheets, she rose from the mattress, placed in the middle of the room and shut the window.

When Sam died Dean wanted to retire and no amount of debate would change that, but by that point Jo would have followed him anywhere. And she did, to the small town of Brandon, South Dakota. They bought a small fixer upper on the outskirts of town with the money that Jo had saved.

Retired or not they would always be hunters so the need for privacy and security was a must.

It was a small farm house that sat on an acre of land and had two floors, although the stairs were in such disarray that it was inaccessible at the moment. She was told by the realtor that it had two bedrooms and a bathroom up there, the master bedroom including a walk in closet, had yet to be seen. For now they had set up their bedroom in the small dining room which flowed into the kitchen, a hallway in the corner of the dining room wrapped around the back of the house to the living room, and an ornate archway, inexplicably untouched by decay lead back into the kitchen. That archway was one of the main reason's Jo wanted this house.

The house hadn't been occupied in over twenty years, the amount of dirt and grime that had collected, threatened to overwhelm Jo more than once, but Dean was a Godsend. Sort of.

He threw himself into the house. Anything not to think about his brother, he never even said his name, making Jo think that she shouldn't either. Within a day they had the dining room and kitchen clean, in two, the living room, the downstairs bathroom, and the small laundry room done. On the third day they painted, and the fourth they moved in what little furniture they had.

Bobby had given over one of the working trucks from the junk yard, with several old pieces of furniture and handed Dean the keys. "Don't say I never gave you anything." He said and walked back into the house. Dean and him hadn't spoken since. They weren't angry with each other, they just couldn't look at one another and keep up the facade they had worked so hard for. Jo would call Bobby every other day just to make sure he was okay. Most day's he wouldn't answer.

After the first week of renovations, their savings were running out quick, so Jo took a waitressing job at a truck stop nearby. Dean took up the mechanic position at the connecting garage, collecting enough money to get a security system up.

They had been civilians for two months. Jo's skin practically crawled at the normalcy.

As Jo looked out the gauzy curtains she could see Dean through the trees digging holes for the eight foot iron link fence they got yesterday. She grabbed her shorts from the chair by the window and padded into the kitchen. She poured the coffee Dean must have made before going outside, into the only two mugs that they owned, slipped on her sneakers and made her way through the trees to where Dean was working.

"Hey," She said over the wind. "How's it going?"

Dean stopped what he was doing and wiped the sweat off his face on the bandana he had hanging out of his back pocket. "So far so good, thank you." He said as he took the coffee she handed him.

"How long have you been out here?" She looked down the path he was making with the fence, he must have been at it awhile, "I didn't even hear you get up."

Dean chuckled and shook his head, "You were snoring up a storm, I'm not surprised." He took a sip of the coffee and put it down on a flat rock nearby, "I couldn't sleep."

Jo nodded, sipping on her own coffee as she sat down on a fallen down tree. "I would have stayed up with you." Jo offered, she hated seeing him restless, "I don't work today."

Dean shook his head, picking up the shovel he was using. "No use having us both sleep deprived. One of us needs to be alert." He said breaking up dirt clods with the shovel.

Jo wracked her brain for anything she could talk to him about. Lately if it wasn't about the house it was dead silent. Both still grieving those they lost by never speaking of them. "I thought Gary was going to help you with this." Jo gestured to the fence. Dean's boss Gary had told them where to get the fence and insisted on coming over to help.

Dean nodded, picking up his coffee for another sip. "He's coming around ten." Dean glanced at his watch. "I just had to do something with my hands, and I didn't want to wake you."

"Oh, okay." Jo responded. The same awkward silence that had been hanging around for days filled the small forest of their backyard. Jo looked down at her coffee cup, the tree she was sitting on, and the fence, anything to avoid eye contact with him.

For weeks they hadn't touched each other, they walked around each other, they didn't kiss, they didn't even cuddle in their sleep. Both too afraid that any contact they had with each other would just remind them of something they could never forget.

Dean was the first one to speak. "Jo." He cleared his throat. "I..." He trailed off. He wiped his hand down his face like he does when he's frustrated. "I know you didn't sign up for this." Jo turned her attention to her coffee cup. "I know that this, that I'm not what you wanted."

Jo's head snapped up, "I never said that."

Dean let go of the breath he had been holding and moved to kneel in front of her. "You didn't have to." He went to reach for her hand, but stopped himself. "If I'm not working, I'm at the bottom of a bottle, and I'm just so angry. All the time."

"It's okay." Jo whispered, her voice not strong enough for anymore volume than that. It was true, Dean had lashed out at her more than once in the last couple of months, not physically, but he would yell and he would throw things. He would go into fits of rage at the turn of a dime, but Jo had dealt with angry drunk men all her life.

"No, it's not okay." Dean's voice started to raise, he took a step back, steadying his breathing before he spoke again. "You deserve better." He moved to sit next to her on the tree, "I just... I want you to know that I'm trying. I just need some time."

"Dean, I'm not trying to push you in any sort of direction, maybe towards the stairs a bit," She nudged his shoulder with her cup, trying to get him to crack a smile, only to get the barest of curls on his lip. "I want you to be happy, no matter how you get there." Then quietly as if only to herself, "I'm not going anywhere."

She could feel Dean's eyes on her as his hand snaked its way under her arm and reached for her hand. His fingers intertwined with hers as if God himself made their hands for one another. The heat from the palm of his hand radiated through hers and up her arm, pulling her eyes to meet his. All the weeks with pain coated in his eyes, it was nice to see that old spark of hope that was normally a staple reappear.

* * *

By the time Gary showed up Jo had already returned to the house, showered and gotten dressed. She made work of cleaning the kitchen just to fill the time. When she was done with that, she stood in the middle of the room looking for anything to keep her hands busy. She spied the boys outside, Dean had taken off his shirt in the heat and Jo was mesmerized by the muscles on his back. The way his skin rippled with his movements made Jo salivate.

Finally deciding she pulled out the small cooler Dean used for his lunches and filled it with ice. She shoved as many beers as she could in it and headed down to where they were working.

"Oh God, Jo, your fucking amazing," Gary howled as she made her way through the small forest.

Jo waved her had at him, "Get over it Gary."

Dean smiled wiping his face with the bandana, squinting in the sun, "I'm serious, Jo," Garry continued, rushing for the cooler, "If Dean hadn't already snatched you up, I would totally pull a _Say Anything_ and be under your window with a boom box."

"Watch yourself, Gary," Dean warned as he cracked open a beer. "Thanks babe." He cheered his bottle toward Jo.

Jo pulled her long hair over her shoulder, "You're welcome." She shoved her hands in her pockets, "Hey, so, I'm gonna go into town for a bit."

"Oh yeah?" Dean asked, taking another gulp. "For what?"

"I'm gonna go to the library." She tried to keep her voice even, it was getting harder and harder to keep this up. "Gonna look up some renovation ideas." She explained walking backwards, pulling her hair over to the opposite shoulder. Small strands sticking to her skin in the heat. "I'll be back around dinner time." She turned and waved her goodbye jogging up to her mom's old station wagon.

* * *

She got half way to the library before she reached under the seat and pulled out her messenger bag. It was filled with books she had gotten the previous week and notebooks consumed with notes and ideas. Even if Dean had given up, Jo had not. She was determined, obsessed with finding a way to get Sam back.

Jo made her way to her usual table in the back of the non-fiction section. No one was ever there unless it was a teenager doing homework. She liked going there. It reminded her of the library at her high school, a place she spent most of her days.

She studied for hours. Rubbing her eyes she glanced down at her watch. Sighing she started to pack her stuff up and head home. When she got to the wagon, she shoved the bag under the seat and put the car in drive.

* * *

Their house was almost exactly two miles outside of town. You had to actually measure from the welcome sign to their driveway. Especially in the dark. The dense forest hid the driveway from view perfectly. You had to know where you were looking in order to find it, and then it was a half mile till you could even see the house.

When Jo pulled up the only light she could see was the one from the kitchen. She could just make out Dean's shadow at the table through the gauzy curtains. He sat there staring at the glass in his hand, swirling it around. Jo didn't need to be able to see what he was doing, it was the same thing he did ever night.

"I'm home," She called as she came through the front door.

"In here." She heard him softly answer.

She set her purse down by the door, following the sound of his voice.

There he sat, staring at the glass of whiskey in his hand. "Hey," she said as she entered the room.

He looked up at her, his eyes glassed over and far away. "Hey." He cleared his throat, his eyes clearing as the seconds past. "How was the library?"

Jo went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. "Uhm, it was fine. I guess." She shrugged taking the seat across from him.

"Oh yeah?" Dean took a sip of his whiskey, watching her over the rim of his glass. "Find anything good?"

Jo pulled her hair over her shoulder. "No, not really. Nothing I liked."

Dean nodded slowly, "What was there?" He leaned his elbows on the table. "Might give me an idea."

Jo eyed him, switching her hair from one shoulder to the other. "Nothing really we haven't seen before."

Dean nodded, standing to refill his glass. "Do we have a deck of cards?"

"No, I don't think so, why?" Jo asked taking a sip of her beer.

"Well, sweetheart," Dean purred setting his glass back on the table before taking his seat. "You have the most obvious tell ever. I'm surprised you made as much money as you did hustling."

Jo made thousands of dollars hustling hunters at the Roadhouse. There really wasn't much lying involved. All she really had to do was wear a low cut shirt and some daisy dukes, and the fools would lay their money down.

Jo took another pull on her beer, squinting her eyes at Dean, "Oh, yeah? So what is it?"

"You've been pulling your hair over shoulder every time you talk about going to the library." Dean said abruptly. His tone immediately accusing, all the melancholy of the moment before gone. It was the same tone he would use when he would interrogate monsters.

Jo slowly put her beer bottle down on the table. She folded her hands in front of her on the table, fighting the urge to move her hair. The skin on her neck was growing more itchy and hotter with every tick of the second hand on clock hanging from the wall. "I don't know what you're talking about?"

Dean turned his glass in circles on the table. "Did you go to the library?"

Jo met his eyes in a mirrored defiant stare. "Of course I did."

Dean watched her eyes, for anything. For any sign that she was lying. "Took Hill to Prospect?"

"That _is_ the way there." Jo nodded.

"Hm." Dean took his eyes away to take a sip of his whiskey, "And what about the renovation ideas?" He watched her reaction, her blink clearly not missed as he bowed his head, "What were you doing, Jo?"

She remained silent, not knowing how to answer. She shook her head.

Dean's eyebrows raised, "Am I just supposed to except that?"

Jo bowed her head, taking a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. "I only promised to take care of you." She whispered.

She knew it was a lie. She had made another promise to Sam. Jo _did_ promise that she wouldn't go looking for him, but Dean needed this. He needed this like he needed air to breath, and her promise to take care of him trumped not looking for Sam.

"What were you doing, Jo?" Dean repeated himself.

Jo's hands were starting to shake. "I was looking for a way to bring _him_ back." She explained not daring to speak Sam's name out loud.

Dean stared at her, he didn't move, he didn't speak. He just stared.

"Dean, say something." Jo fidgeted in her seat. His gaze making her even more uncomfortable then she already was.

"Have you found anything?" He whispered.

"If I did, this conversation would be going a lot differently."

"Show me what you have." He demanded downing the rest of his drink.

"Dean." Jo warned.

"Show me." He repeated through clenched teeth.

"Dean," She pleaded. This would consume him, and Jo knew that. And then ultimately he would be heartbroken, and in worse shape than he is now.

His knuckles were pure white around the glass before he threw it against the wall. "Fuck!"

Jo closed her eyes against the sound of the shattering glass, but remained seated. His voice echoing in the small room.

She turned her gaze to watch the remnants of the whiskey trail down the wall and then back to Dean.

"I'm not cleaning that up." She stated.

Dean turned to face her, the rage immediately receding. He reached over the table for her hands. Jo removed them from the table and put them on her lap. "I'm sorry." Dean whispered bowing his head till his forehead rested on the table.

Jo crossed her arms over her chest, stopping herself from reaching out to him.

"I just," Dean sat up to look at her, his eyes glistening with un-shed tears. "I just can't... I need..." He choked on his words.

"I know," Jo cut him off, "That's why I'm doing it. And _when_ I find something I will let you know." Jo took the last drink of her beer, standing and tossing it in the recycle bin. The clanking of the empty bottles ringing in her ears.

She grabbed the sludge hammer on her way out of the room.

"What are you going?" Dean's voiced edged on worry.

"Nowhere." Jo deadpanned as she made her way to the stairs in the living room.

She stared at them. Broken and falling to pieces. They belonged here, they matched the two broken people living with them. Jo was sick of looking at them. Seeing a constant reminder of how her heart must look. Cracked, brittle, broken.

She raised the hammer over her shoulders and swung down with everything she had, almost losing her balance. She kept smashing, vaguely aware of the fact that Dean was now watching her.

She only stopped when there was nothing left. The remaining pieces of the railing clinging to the second floor.

Dean leaned against the archway behind her. "You alright?"

Jo wiped her forehead with the back of her hand, looking around at the rubble surrounding her feet. "Yeah," She panted, "Fine."

"Come here." Dean cocked his head to the spot directly in front of him.

Jo dropped the hammer, shook her head and leaned on the opposite side of the archway.

"We're going to be okay." Dean whispered. He nodded, "Yeah, everything will be fine."

Jo stared at him. He was trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince her.

"Jo?" Dean reached out his hand to her. "Please."

She pushed off the wall and took his hand, their fingers gingerly touching. Dean grasped her hand in earnest and pulled her to him, wrapping his other hand around her waist. The smell of whiskey wafted across her face as Dean buried himself in her neck.

Jo's body melted into him, the past month of neglect completely forgotten as her body sang in his touch.

"I'm so sorry..." He murmured in between peppering kisses on her neck. His hands roamed up the back of her shirt and gently scratched at the soft skin of her back.

Jo let a sigh escape her lips as Dean found the spot just below her ear, making her knees buckle.

Dean didn't miss a beat, he pulled her to him almost violently, turning and pushing her up against the arch way as he continued to assault her neck.

Jo pulled away just enough to crash her lips on to him. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Jo could finally breathe. She wrapped her arms around Dean's neck as he pulled her legs around his waist.

She wasn't even aware of the fact that they had moved from their spot against the archway, until her back hit the mattress. Dean's hands clawed into the skin at her hip, pulling her impossibly closer.

It didn't take very long for their clothes to be discarded. Their limbs tangled in a heap of skin as the memory of the last few months disappeared. They scratched and pulled at each other. Pushed and grasped at anything they could. They were violent and gentle. Ruthlessly taking anything they could get.

* * *

The sun beat down brutally on the tin roof of the small dinner. Jo could hear the industrial fan in the kitchen echoing off the walls from the bathroom. She stood there staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were blood shot and she couldn't get her hands to stop shaking.

It had been weeks since _that night,_ and Dean hadn't touched her since. He had woken up the next morning, seeing the angry scratch marks on her back, the yellowing bruises on her wrists and instantly recoiled. Mentally backtracking until he was at the bottom of several different bottles.

Jo had told everyone at work that he had gotten the flu. That the reason for his absence was that his was sickly, not so drunk he could barely stand. Within a week he had sobered up enough that he could return to work. They never talked about it.

"When are you going to tell him?" Sheena, a fellow waitress, said appearing from one of the stalls. She walked up to the mirror next to her, adjusting the expertly messy bun atop her head. Her sandy brown complexion glowed impossibly under the florescent lighting of the restroom. Her mother had been a model in India, apparently the apple didn't fall far from the tree.

Jo let go an unsteady breath, shaking her hands out, "What are you talking about?"

Sheena raised a dark manicured eyebrow, pulling her lip gloss from her apron. She turned her attention back to the mirror applying a thin coat. "Well, unless you caught his 'flu'," She gestured to the stall Jo had once occupied, "I'm no doctor," She shrugged, watching Jo in the mirror, "I'd say you were pregnant."

Jo shook her head immediately. "No." She absolutely refused the possibility. "No, it's probably just stress."

"Yeah," Sheena scoffed, "A whole other lifetime of stress." She patted Jo's back lightly as she passed, exiting the bathroom.

Jo returned her gaze back to the mirror, mentally counting up the days. "You are not pregnant. And in... Four days, you can prove it." Jo nodded, agreeing with herself. _God, please don't let me be pregnant. _She silently prayed.

Jo washed her hands one last time in an attempt to calm herself. Then turned kicking open the bathroom door and wiping her hands haphazardly on her apron.

Jo spied a new customer in her section. She pulled a pen and her pad out of the pocket in her apron and took a deep breath to steady herself.

The man in the booth stared absently out the window. He wore a baseball cap and a trench coat that immediately reminded Jo of Castiel. As she got closer she had no doubt that's exactly who it was.

"Cas?" She asked hastily shoving the pad and pen back in her apron.

"Joanna." He nodded to her, tearing his gaze from the window.

Jo followed his eyes and could see Dean working on a car in the garage.

"What are you doing here?" She asked incredulously.

Castiel cocked his head at her, "You are with child?"

Jo slid into the booth across from him, leaning her head on the table. "Way to ruin the good news." She groaned.

"With Dean's behavior as of late, I hardly think this is good news." Castiel's brows furrowed in confusion.

"It's not, Cas," She sighed lifting her head, "that was sarcasm."

"Oh I see." Castiel bowed his head.

"What are you doing here?" Jo's patience for his appearance was growing thinner by the second. "If Dean sees you." She warned, not needing to finish her thought.

"I understand." Castiel agreed. "I must be going."

"Cas?" Jo reached out her hand to stop him, but he was already gone. No one in the diner any the wiser that a man had just disappeared.


	2. Shame

_Shame, boatloads of shame_

_Day after day, more of the same_

_Blame, please lift it off_

_Please take it off, please make it stop_

He could hear the echo of a knife being sharpened pound in his head. The stench of dead bodies filled his nostrils threatening to make him sick. He didn't have to open his eyes to know where he was. The screams of the damned swirled around the room, pulling at Dean. The hilt of a sword was thrust into his hand. His grip tightened and he knew what he had to do.

He finally allowed himself to open his eyes and had to blink a couple times to realize he was actually awake. The visions of Hell still at the forefront of his mind. He let his eyes roam around the room. The window panes bounced against each other in the light breeze.

He turned his head to see Jo sleeping soundly next to him. Her gold hair sprawled out on her pillow as he watched her shoulders gently rise and fall.

She didn't deserve this. Dean reminded himself of that fact every day. She left everything for him. She was supposed to be a hunter. To be free and he took that away from her.

Dean dragged his hand across his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He rolled himself out of bed, grabbing his discarded shirt from the day before and threw it on. He padded his way into the kitchen and busied himself making a cup of coffee.

He watched the dark liquid drip mercilessly into the glass below. A memory of a young boy's first sip of his older brother's coffee, flitted its way through Dean's memory.

He pushed himself away from the counter and wrenched open the back door, gulping in the fresh air. Trying in vain to rid his vision of the small boy that he had let down.

* * *

Gary chuckled out loud as Dean watched Jo jog up to the old station wagon. "I bet poker with her is real fun," Gary whistled as he turned back to the fence.

"Why's that?" Dean put his beer down on tree stump.

"She's got the most obvious tell ever." Garry furrowed his brows in confusion. "You've never noticed that?" Dean shook his head, "She plays with her hair when she lies."

Dean looked back over to the retreating station wagon. "No, can't say I have." _What are you hiding, Jo?_

* * *

He regretted it as soon as the glass left his hand. The rage in his heart boiled through his chest and into his blood.

"I'm not cleaning that up."

Dean closed his eyes against Jo's voice. He turned reaching for her hand, if he could just touch her, feel her skin, maybe it would all be okay. She pulled her hands back and placed them in her lap.

Dean leaned his head against the table. "I'm sorry," He croaked. "I just... I can't." He wanted to tell her he couldn't do this without her, that she should let him help her. That he just needed some kind of hope. Anything.

"I know, that's why I'm doing it." Jo sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "When I find something, I'll let you know."

She stood up tossing her empty bottle in the trash, the ringing of glass filled the room.

"Where are you going?" He asked watching her as she turned toward the living room.

Jo's shoulders slumped almost in defeat. "Nowhere." She sounded disappointed at the prospect. Dean couldn't help but think that was his fault.

* * *

Dean turned over in bed, sleeping through the night for the first time in he didn't know when. Jo's blonde hair was splayed across their pillow, glowing in the morning light. Dean reached up and wrapped a piece around his finger, letting the silk slide through his fingers.

He trailed his fingers down the side of her arm, leaving goose bumps in their wake. _I can do th__is,_ he thought to himself. _Every__day, waking up next to her? Yeah, I can definitely get used to this._

His fingers stopped at her wrists, a yellowish hue in the shape of a hand was starting to form. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, matching the bruise. Pulling away like he had been burnt, Dean gingerly pulled back the sheets to get a better look at her back. Dozens of angry red scratched marred her skin.

Dean rolled on to his back and stared at the ceiling. _You're a fucking monster,_ he reminded himself.

He rolled out of bed, and went for the neglected whiskey bottle on the kitchen table.

* * *

The sweltering heat had finally broken sometime around the dinner rush. The sky clouded and rain poured down without any sign of stopping anytime soon.

Dean sat in the pick-up truck, waiting for Jo, picking at the grease left under his fingernails. A stain he knew he could never fully wash away. Just like the blood of his loved ones, that on his worst days, he could still see. His shoulders slumped as he leaned back in the seat. Dean let out a discontented sigh as he leaned his head against the vinyl headrest.

There are times during the day when Dean's heart was so heavy that it took all the strength he had to keep moving. All the guilt he had weighed on him, hell, it weighed on Jo.

Every day he wanted to tell her how much he loved her, wanted to say how much he appreciated her. She endured so much of his tantrums.

He was an absolute mess. He screamed and yelled, he threw things. His temper was off the fucking charts.

He bowed his head. His whole body coated in shame.

He saw a murky vision of Jo through the trucks windshield as she stepped out of the diner and into the rain, pulling the hood of her sweater over her head.

Dean's breath caught in his throat. She was everything to him. She was everything and he was killing her. Even Dean could see that her spirit, her light, that spark that Dean loved about her the most was dwindling every day. Her lips were pulled in a thin line as she marched over to the truck.

"Hey," his rough voice came out in a hoarse whisper as she wrenched open the passenger side door.

"Hey," Jo hoisted herself into the truck, throwing her bag on the floor.

Dean jammed his keys in the ignition as she pulled on her seat belt. All the words he wanted to say dying on his lips. He was still angry with her. Dean knew she promised _him_ that night. He knew Jo was awake for that.

Even so, Dean didn't regret retiring and staying with Jo. Not for a second. No matter what would have happened, he would have always picked her.

"I have to go into town tomorrow." Jo interjected into the silence.

"For?" Dean inquired, her lies still at the forefront of his memory.

Jo tangled her fingers together in her lap, "I, uh... Just have to."

Dean nodded. "Fine." He leaned on the door and covered his mouth with his hand staring out onto the road.

Silence engulfed them for the rest of the night. Jo went to bed as soon as they walked in. Not even bothering the change into her pajamas. And Dean went straight for the whiskey in the freezer.

* * *

Dean could feel the ground beneath him start to shake. Jo's labored breath invading his ears, "Dean, no," She begged. The blood seeped through her hands as she propped herself up against the wheel of the Impala. The hell hound had ripped through her side and her hand was the only reason her intestines were still in her body. "Please, no."

Dean looked back at her, the pain in his heart so deep that he had to put his hand to his chest just to keep the pieces together. "I've got to, babe."

The ground began to crack open as Sam struggled to reign in the devil.

"I can't hold him, Dean," Sam spit through his teeth. The pain so intense it brought him down to his knees.

"It's okay Sammy," Dean tried to sooth him, inching his way toward his brother. He chanced a glance over his shoulder at Jo.

Her face was ashen and her breath was even more labored then before. "I'm sorry, Dean. I love you." She whispered, the sound deceptively close to his ears. Her thumb pushed down on the trigger she held in her hand and the gas cans, that had just appeared, exploded.

Dean sat straight up in bed, reaching over instinctively to Jo's side. He blinked his eyes in an effort to clear his vision. Jo had already left, that much was obvious.

He rubbed his hands on his face, rolling out of bed and padding his way to the kitchen. He put the back of his hand against the coffee pot. It was cold. _She should be back soon then._ Dean concluded. He turned the coffee machine back on to warm up the remnants.

He shuffled his way over to the living room and looked at the stairs. They had cleaned up the rubble that Jo had created but did nothing else.

Jo's enthusiasm for the house is what made Dean want it. He didn't care where they were. He didn't really care about much these days.

He crossed his arms over his chest and regarded the landing that led to the mysterious bedrooms upstairs. He needed to get on those damn stairs. Jo needed him to do it. She needed him to be a man, to do what needed to be done.

In the distance he could hear the gravel of the driveway being displaced by a car. Jo's car. The familiar tune of the station wagon's exhaust filtered through the breeze. Dean went back to the kitchen to pour himself some coffee. He sat down at the table with his lukewarm black coffee and watched her through the window. She sat in the car, both hands still on the wheel as she stared at the house. She stayed like that for almost five minutes before she took a large breath and collected her things.

Dean stood, taking his cup of coffee with him, as he went to lean against the archway. "Hey," He said as she came through the door.

Her eyes widened a bit in surprise as she examined him, closing the door behind her. "Hey." She put her purse down on the table by the door. "What's up?" She shoved her hands in her pockets watching him.

"Nothing." Dean took a sip of his coffee. "How was town?"

Jo looked down at her shoes bobbing her head. "It was... fine." She whispered.

Dean watched her wearily, "Is everything okay?"

"Mmhm," Jo nodded curtly.

Something was clearly not right. "Are you sure?" He asked again.

Jo shuffled her feet again, bobbing her head up finally meeting his gaze, "Yeah Dean, every things great."

"Did you do more research?" His mind immediately jumping to his brother.

"No." Jo's brown orbs danced between Dean's green ones.

Dean raised his eyebrows at her quick response. "What were you doing?"

Jo stared at the archway above Dean's head. He could see the wheels trying to turn in her head. Coming up with nothing she took a deep breath and brought her gaze back down to his. "I went to the doctor."

"Are you okay?!" Dean tempted to take a step towards her, thinking better of it, he stayed put.

Jo waved him off, moving to sit on the arm of the couch across the room from him. "Yeah, I'm fine. I guess."

"You guess?" Dean questioned as he moved to stand in front of her. "What's going on?"

Jo put her face in her hands, "I'm pregnant," She mumbled against her hands.

"What?" Dean's voice came out in a ghostly whisper as he set his cup down on the coffee table.

"I'm fucking pregnant, Dean." Jo threw her hands down onto the couch.

"Yeah," Dean wiped his hand over his face, backing up to sit in the arm chair near the archway. "So you said."

Jo nodded her head, "That's your reaction?" She asked incredulously.

Dean shrugged. Judging her body language, knowing by the tone in her voice that she was a ticking time-bomb. "What do you want me to say? You just caught me off guard." He leaned his elbow on the arm of the chair and rested his chin on his hand. "I thought we were careful..." He thought out loud, though his memory of their last time was a bit fuzzy on the detail of contraception.

"Apparently not careful enough." Jo slumped her shoulders, mirroring his position.

"What are we going to do?" Dean asked her, his voice seemed far away to his own ears.

Jo watched him, her eyes sad. Not what he would have imagined with the news of their first child. She shrugged. "I haven't decided yet." She looked down to her hands folded in her lap.

"You haven't..." Dean trailed off, "Don't I get a say?"

Jo narrowed her eyes at him. "You _want_ a say?" She leaned her forearms on her thighs, "_You're_ going to help _me_ make a decision?" She took a deep breath looking around the room. "You haven't given a _fuck_ about anything in the last few months!" Her voice raising with every word.

Dean propelled himself from his chair, his hands balled into fists. "Sam is dead! My brother, dead!" His voice screeched as his vocal chords slapped together.

Jo pushed herself to a standing position as well, her face scrunched up in rage. "So is my mother! For what, Dean?!" She held out her arms for emphasis. "For this?" She looked around, her eyes spotting the lamp on the side table. She picked it up and threw it in Dean's direction. He ducked just in time for it to shatter against the wall behind him. "Are you happy? Because I'm not?"

Dean's mouth gaped open as she fumed at him.

"I've walked around on eggshells for months!" Her small hands balled up into fists at her sides. Her chest heaved as she tried to calm herself. "We all lost someone! We are _all_ in mourning, Dean." She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "You have to come back to me soon."

Dean brushed the shards of glass off the seat he had once occupied. "Yeah," He eased himself back in the chair. "Or what?" The words were out of his mouth before he could contain them.

Jo chuckled sardonically. "Or don't try looking for me." Dean caught enough of her gaze to know that was no bluff. She sighed, shuffling her feet against the hardwood floor. "I can't do this for much longer."

Dean bobbed his head up and down, staring at a random spot on the floor.

Jo shook her head, "I can't... You're unbeliev..." She took a deep breath. "I just told you that I'm pregnant with your child, and you just..." Jo trailed off shaking her head at him.

Dean's eyes bored into her stomach. This was her chance. She could get away from him clean. Leave him here to rot. This was her get away. He wouldn't be any good for a child. Future memories of drunken nights, verbal abuse. Jo growing resentful to him, her fire extinguished long before the child would even be born. A thousand what if's filtered through his mind.

"You should go." He whispered.

"What?!" Jo shouted, her mouth gaping at the shock. She closed her mouth resolutely, her brows furrowed as she took two steps toward him. She pulled back her right hand and punched him across the jaw with such force it threw him from the chair.

He spit out blood, feeling a tooth had loosened with his tongue, his pushed himself onto his knees.

"Fuck you Dean." Jo slammed the door behind her, the small windows rattling with the sheer power.

Dean leaned back to lay down on the wood flooring. He stared up at the white ceiling.

Dean's mind flipped to the first time he met Jo, as he heard her car starting outside.

"_Please let that be a rifle," He quipped as something poked against his back._

"_No, I'm just real h__appy to see you," Her voice dripping with sarcasm wafted to his ears. _The sound of the station wagon's exhaust disappearing in the distance.

He can still picture her standing there in the Roadhouse, hand on her hip, _"Most hunter's come through that door __thinking they can get in my pants with some pizza, a six pack, and side one of Zeppelin IV."_

"_Not me."_

"_No, you're different."_

Dean's heart burned at the memory.

He could still see the pained look in her eyes as she talked about her father, _"Now tell__ me what's so wrong with that?" _She had asked, a mask of defiance clouding her features.

He could still feel her clawing at his hands to let her go as her mother burned in that hardware store.

He could hear her screams as she begged him not to go to Michael. He could hear her whispering his name, telling him that she loves him. That she's pregnant with his child.

"Shit," He cursed as he realized his mistake. He pushed himself to his feet, grabbing his keys from the table near the door. He knew exactly where she would go. The only place she could go.

* * *

As he turned down the road of the Singer lot, a shiny new Pontiac G6 roared passed him on the road. "No appreciation for the classics," Dean whistled watching it disappear in the review mirror.

He concentrated back on the road and what he was going to say. _Listen Jo,_ he rehearsed. _I was just caught off guard, I'm so excited._ Dean tempted a practice smile, not even having to look into the mirror to know it didn't reach his eyes.

Of course he wanted to have kids with Jo. It was something he had dreamed about, but now? Here? He rubbed his hand over his face. _This has to work. I have to make this work._

He jammed the truck in park and turned to see Jo standing, arms crossed, on the porch. Bobby stood behind the screen door, watching the scene as he nursed a bottle of beer. Dean waved at him as he got out of the truck. "Hey Bobby." He called.

Bobby raised his hands in surrender. "Don't be saying 'hi' to me." He cocked his head toward Jo.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, "I know." He turned to look up to Jo, who was glaring daggers at him. He shrugged his shoulders. "I fucked up. I'm sorry."

Jo's lips turned downwards in a frown, "That's it?"

"Please come home?" Dean shuffled his feet uncomfortably as he could feel Bobby's eyes boring into him.

"Don't be an idjit, boy," Bobby gritted through his teeth. Dean visibly winced at the words. Bobby was right, he was always right.

"Bobby," Jo hissed.

"No, now wait a minute." Bobby pushed the screen door open and joined Jo on the porch, turning on Dean. "You got some fucking balls, son. Here's your chance!" He pointed at Jo for emphasis. "All this time, you been talking about getting a chance, getting out of this game, and you did! Then what the fuck do you do? You drink it away. You shit all over it!"

"Bobby," Dean begged, "I'm trying."

Bobby scoffed at him, "You ain't trying to do nothing. You're just wallowing in it."

Dean shuffled his feet in the gravel, kicking up dust. "I know."

"Well then," Bobby took another swig of this beer gesturing his hand toward Jo. "You must already know what to do then?"

Dean looked over to Jo, who looked just like the scolded teenager he felt he was. "Jo..." He trailed off.

Jo shrugged, rolling her eyes to meet his. "Let's just go home." She shuffled down the steps of the porch and to the truck without a word.

Dean looked back up to Bobby, "Well, it was nice seeing you again." He offered.

"Ought to be more often." Bobby chastised him.

Dean waved him off heading over to the truck. "Yeah, I'll call you some time."

"I won't hold my breath," Bobby threw over his shoulder as he yanked open the screen door and disappeared back into the house.

Dean took a deep sigh before he opened the door to the truck, "You want to ride with me? Or drive your car back?"

"Oh, I forgot about it." Jo pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'll get Sheena to drive me out here sometime next week, I kind of want to ride with you."

Dean offered her a smirk, "Good." He pulled himself in the truck, leaning over the middle console. "I am sorry." He put a hand against her cheek. "I'm going to be better." He promised, "I'm gonna fix those stairs." Jo lips curved just a little, "I'm gonna quick drinking." Jo let out a bark of laughter, "Okay, at least hard liquor," He amended, pulling her lips to his gently. "It's all going to be okay."

Jo leaned her forehead against his, "I don't want you to do this just because I'm pregnant."

Dean pulled back putting the keys in the ignition, putting the car in drive. "I'm not. I don't want my kid to hate me."

"It's not going to hate you Dean." Jo pulled his hand into hers. "It's all going to be okay." Dean would have given anything to believe her.

* * *

**Hope you guys are liking it so far. Please, please, please review! **


	3. I Would Be Sad

_I would be sad because you left me all alone.__  
__I would be sad because the lies that you had told.__  
__I would be sad because I got left by a girl that I adore.__  
__I would be sad because the __love I had before.__  
__I meant what I said when I said I would settle down with you although I know it's not something that you were asking me to__  
__do._

"Well," Dr. Conway came into the room with Jo's chart in her hand, "It's very early, and I don't know how you knew it, but you're right. You are pregnant. Congratulations." She smiled warmly, her highlighted short blonde locks tucked behind her ears.

Jo felt her stomach drop to the floor as she forced a smile. "Thank you. My boyfriend will be so excited."

* * *

Jo sat in her station wagon staring at the house. _I can't do this, I'm gonna throw up._ She panicked. _No, __you're__ a grown woman, you can do this. _She argued with herself, _Just march right up there and tell him. _She looked back up to the house. _No, _she shook her head, _better make something up._ She grabbed her bag and dragged herself into the house.

* * *

Jo wiped the tears off her face angrily as she pulled into the Singer junk yard. A shiny new black Pontiac was parked near the porch. She eyed it appreciatively, _Nice__._

She slammed the door to the station wagon and marched up the steps letting herself into Bobby's house.

"Bobby?" She called into the seemingly empty house.

"Jo?" She heard Bobby's voice from the back of the house, "What are you doing here?" He asked as he came into the living room.

"I didn't know where else to go." She practically whined. The ball of emotion lodged in her throat constricted her air way as she let go of a hiccupped sob.

"What happened?" Bobby asked crossing his arms over his chest as he took in the tear tracks on her face. "Dean?" He asked pursing his lips.

"Of course!" She stomped her foot. "I'm fucking pregnant!" She yelled, "And that _asshole_-" A sob cut her off from her rambling as it shook her small frame.

"Whoa, whoa, now calm down." Bobby said, taking a tentative step toward her. Give him a werewolf, vampire, hell even a Japanese Goryo and he would know what to do. But a crying girl, Bobby was completely at a loss. "There, there," Bobby patted her shoulder awkwardly.

Jo rolled her eyes, going over to the couch and burying her face in her hands.

"Well, here," Bobby picked up the half empty beer bottle sitting on the desk, "Drink something."

Jo looked up at Bobby incredulously. "I'm pregnant Bobby!" She yelled.

Bobby looked down at the bottle in his hand, "What?" He shrugged, "It's Dean's kid, it probably has a titanium liver by now." He brought the bottle up to his lips. "I take it he didn't react well?"

"You think?!" Jo glared up at Bobby, she put her face in her hands again, "Ugh, what am I going to do?" She took a deep breath to steady herself and almost gagged. She looked back up to Bobby, who was watching her wearily. "Are you wearing colon?" She asked plugging her nose.

Bobby shook his head, "No, no."

"Did you cook something?" Jo interrogated, looking wildly around the room for the source of the smell. "Seriously, it's going to make me ralph."

"No, no, I didn't." Bobby shrugged, going to the kitchen, and filling a glass up with water.

"Are you sure?" Jo eyed him. "New soap?"

"No, Jo," Bobby rolled his eyes, handing her the glass.

Jo took a sip of the water, "Whose G6 is out front?" She said wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"What?" Bobby balked, "Oh, I, uh, towed it this morning."

Jo peered out the window behind her, "What's wrong with it? It looks brand new." The nausea receding to something more maintainable, her curiosity peeking.

Bobby busied himself with something on his desk. "The, uh, transmission is, uh," Bobby tried to explain.

"It's mine, Jo." A voice came from the back of the house.

Jo dropped the glass from her hand, letting it shatter on the ground.

"Hey," Sam leaned against the doorway to the living room.

"What the fuck, Bobby?!" Jo screamed turning on Bobby who hadn't lifted his head from the desk. She whipped her head back to Sam. "How long have you been back? How did you get back?"

Sam held up his hands in surrender, "Whoa, calm down." He moved to sit down in one of the many chairs around the desk, "I got back about three months ago," His voice scrunched up as if counting the days, "And I don't know."

"Three months!" Jo's voice screeched. "You don't know?!"

Sam just shrugged, "Oh, congrats by the way."

Jo tossed her hand aside, ignoring his comment, "Why haven't you called? Why haven't you come to see Dean?"

Sam shrugged again, the act seemed like something he had been doing often, "I don't know, he's with you, he's got a normal life, he seemed happy."

"Happy?!" Jo repeated, "Yeah, he's _super_ happy."

Sam pushed himself out of the chair and ran his fingers through his hair. "Jo, listen, you can't tell Dean about this."

"The fuck I can't." Jo let out a snort. "I am _not_ keeping this from him."

"Jo, he wanted all of this." Sam argued gesturing his hand in her direction, "It's better this way."

"For who, Sam?" Jo pushed at his chest, it was like a toddler trying to push a tree, "For Dean?" Jo gestured her hands to herself, "Do you really think I'd be here, _alone,_ if everything was so hunky dory?"

"Jo," Sam said warning her, "It's better this way."

"Yeah, you keep saying that," Jo's voice oozed acid. "This is not better, Sam. I can't hide this from him."

"Well, you're going to have to." Sam concluded, he crossed the room taking his keys out of his pocket, "I'll see you later Bobby." He nodded to the old hunter behind the desk, and then looked back at Jo. "Nice to see you Jo."

Jo couldn't speak as Sam slammed the door and got into his car, driving away.

"What... the fuck." Jo sighed as she let herself slouch back on the couch.

"Yeah, tell me about it." Bobby let out his own exasperated sigh as he took his own seat. He leaned back in his chair, "I'm sorry, you know. I've wanted to tell him a hundred times. I even get as far as picking up the phone."

Jo pinched the bridge of her nose, "He has a right to know." She put her head in her hands, looking up at Bobby. "This isn't fair to him."

Bobby nodded, agreeing with her, "I know, but think for a second."

"About what Bobby?" Jo cocked her head at him, "He has to know."

"Of course," Bobby nodded, "But does he have to know right away?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Did that seem like Sam to you?" Bobby pointed over to the door way, "There's something wrong with that boy."

"You think he's possessed?" Jo asked sitting up straighter.

Bobby shook his head. Something out the window caught his attention and he leaned toward Jo in a sudden urgency. "Jo, I don't know but I'm trying to find out."

Jo followed his gaze, and saw Dean's truck in the distance chugging down the road.

Bobby grabbed her hand to pull her attention back to him. "We don't tell him anything until we know for sure." Bobby raised his eyebrows at her waiting her reply. She could hear the soft rumble of the truck getting closer. "Jo?!" Bobby shouted.

"Yeah!" She finally agreed, "Yeah," she said softer. "Okay." She pulled on Bobby's hand next, "But as _soon_ as you know, we tell him everything."

Bobby gave her a final nod as the truck outside screeched to a halt.

* * *

Jo intertwined her fingers with his, "It's all going to be okay." She repeated him.

"Yeah," He bobbed his head, bringing her hand to his lips. "It's all going to be fine."

She didn't know what it was, but that time, she actually believed him.

* * *

On the way home they stopped at the local hardware store and picked up some lumber.

Two weeks later, they had stairs.

"They look good," Jo said as she handed Dean a beer.

He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand as he pulled her to his side with the other. "Yeah, not too shabby for having no idea what I'm doing." Dean kissed her temple as he took the beer from her hand.

"Did you try them yet?" She tried to wriggle out of his grasp.

"No, no," Dean pulled her to him tighter. "You have precious cargo. I'll try them." Jo rolled her eyes at him as he tapped her stomach.

He looked over his shoulder at her as he wiggled the railing. Jo raised her eyebrows at him telling him to keep going.

The first step creaked underneath his weight.

"Come on you big baby," Jo whined.

Dean made it up to the landing without an issue, he turned extending his hand out to her. "You want to see the rest of your house?"

Jo beamed up at him taking the stairs two at a time.

The smaller bedroom was off to the right. Jo pushed the door open gingerly, plaster was missing from the walls like the holes in Swiss cheese. There were two large windows kitty corner from each other that looked out onto the side and the back of the house. "This will be the nursery." Dean declared from the door way.

Jo looked around the room trying to imagine what it will look like once it was finished. "What color should we paint it?"

"Shouldn't we wait to find out the gender?" Dean asked, reaching out wiggling one of the closet doors, which were stuck in an open position.

"So pink for a girl, blue for a boy?" She asked wiping a layer of dust from the window with her finger.

"Yeah, why not?"

"What if she doesn't like pink?" Jo raised one manicured eyebrow at him.

"Well, then when she's old to enough decide she can pick the color herself." Dean chuckled, sauntering over to her, pulling her back flush against his front as they both looked out the window. "We can paint it whatever you want." He said leaving a kiss on her shoulder.

Jo nodded, leaning her head against his shoulder. She turned her head to look at him, breathing in his scent of motor oil and beer. "Let's go check out the rest."

The bathroom was the next room. It was slightly larger than the one downstairs, with a beautiful large porcelain tube with clawed feet. Jo squealed as she opened the door.

"What?!" Dean's voice full of worry.

"I've always wanted one of these tubs!" She exclaimed as she dropped to her knees on the white daisy patterned tiles, as she attempted to wrap her arms around the large tub.

"Fuck, Jo." Dean put his hand to his heart, "You're trying to kill me, aren't you?"

Jo ducked her head sheepishly as Dean came into the bathroom. "Sorry."

Dean waved her off as he took a sip from his bottle. "We can attach a shower to that." He motioned to the space above the tub and Jo nodded.

"I'd like that." She smiled up at him.

Dean smiled back placing a hand on her head, pulling him to his leg. "Come on, let's go see our room."

Dean extended his hand down to her and helped Jo in a standing position. She interlocked their arms as they walked down the short hallway to the master bedroom.

Dean pointed to the closed door with his bottle, "After you."

Jo tentatively pushed open the door.

The training ingrained in them had them both peering through the small crack. Jo kicked the door open the rest of the way. The same two windows that were in the smaller room mirrored their position in this one.

There was an archway to a walk-closet to the left with a smaller fogged window letting a dusty beam of light come through.

Dean squeezed past Jo and into the room looking around, nodding his head in approval. "This is nice."

"This is very nice," Jo agreed following him into the center of the room.

Dean put his beer gently on the window sill, turning to Jo and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. He pulled her close and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. Dean's content sigh ruffled the hair as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

* * *

The clinking of silverware tuned in with the music filtering from the kitchen. Nate the cooks awful singing bounced off the tiled walls.

"So you guys seem good," Sheena nodded her head to the big window that over looked the garage.

Jo followed her gaze, spotting Dean immediately. "Yeah, were good." Jo smiled to herself, plunging her hands back into the soapy water.

"He excited to be a big papa?" Sheena asked grabbing a sponge from the shelf above the sink.

"Yeah, surprisingly," Jo laughed as she picked up another spoiled plate off the stack. "He came home with a baseball the other day. He's convinced it's a boy."

Sheena laughed. "All men want a boy. When do you find out the sex?"

"In two more weeks." Jo said absently putting a wet hand on her small belly.

"Well," Sheena dug her hands back into the sink, rinsing off a soapy dish. "I've got my money on a girl." Jo smiled to herself as Sheena prattled on about manicures, dresses and holding tiny tea parties.

* * *

**Hey guys! So I had a few chapters already up, but the next ones won't be as quick, so I'm sorry in advance. I'm working on a few things right now, one of which I just published, Shelter. Not sure if that one will be a multi-fic, so check it out and let me know what you think. **

**As always, please, please, please review! **


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